


Paper Cranes

by Madiletio



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Grieving, I'm sorry for the Angst, Love Letters, Moving On, actually no thats a lie, learning to cope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 17:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18833464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madiletio/pseuds/Madiletio
Summary: Louis had never been much of writer, but for her?  He’d write her a thousand paper cranes.





	Paper Cranes

Writing love letters had never really been his strongest forte. Hell, he'd pick speaking his mind over writing a simple love letter if he could. But beggars couldn't be choosers and he had to adjust to his reality. 

 

Truth be told, he was adjusting pretty well. His handwriting seemed to get neater as the days went on and if it meant Clem got to know that she was appreciated and loved? He’d write her one everyday- just in case she suddenly forgets.

 

They had started out simple too, nothing crazy or beyond cheezy. Small notes of torn parchment containing singular sentences of “ _ You look pretty today.” _ or “ _ Your smile is infectious. _ ” 

 

Basic cringey shit like that. 

 

Yet as the months dragged on and as the seasons changed, so did their relationship. They became closer and bonded more; they were past the fragliness that every new relationship held- especially in an apocalypse. 

 

But now more than ever, they were a stronger and better _team._

 

As Clem got stronger with her crutches, the notes started to become longer and more filled out too. Often ending with some sort of rambling or heart felt joke. 

 

In the warmer seasons, he would often fold the letters up to take shape of a paper crane, before tossing them to her when she emerged from the dorms. And despite still waking up from her slumber, she never missed catching the letter. 

 

Late fall was starting to take a toll on everyone. Rations were getting scarce with each passing day and most of the forest creatures had hidden away to hibernate. 

 

In his letters he often expressed how he wished people could also hibernate and if not people, then walkers. It would take the edge off of them at least. Clem would often give him a sympathetic smile, understanding clear in her honey brown eyes. 

 

Aj had started to grow taller and stronger too. Often being the first to jump up and volunteer to go beyond the safety of the schools iron gates to hunt or to fish, with sometimes the occasion of Clem tagging along- if it was just beyond in the gates. 

 

It never ceased to amaze him how badass Clem was, and even if she couldn’t see it, everyone else certainly did. Some nights, when he couldn’t sleep however, he’d spend his nights in the music room. 

 

After he lost his tongue, the first few weeks back at Ericson had been brutal. Nightmares often plagued his dreams, the phantom pain feeling so real. The only thing that seemed to ease his racing heartbeat and anxiety, was his piano. 

 

He knew the notes like the back of his hand. Every key, every placement- every scale. It brought him a comfort he couldn’t properly describe. He didn’t have to worry about what he was going to write. Didn’t have to worry about his spelling or making sure what he hate written had made sense. It was just him and his piano and even though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, that was one of the first few things that helped him cope from the trauma. 

 

Clem had her own ways of coping too. 

 

Once she had been given her crutches, she was always on the go, trying to busy herself whenever she could. At first, it wasn’t noticeable. Everyone was busy after the delta raid. 

 

But time goes on and life moves on and Clem needed to do that too.

 

So some nights he’d find  _ her  _ waiting for him at the piano. They would just sit there, playing the keys in the looming silence of the halls, no words, no letters, needing to be spoken or written.  

 

Just the two of them and the old falling apart piano. 

-

It had taken a few months and lots of trials and errors, but eventually Willy and Aj (with the occasional help from Aasim) had finally succeeded in making Clem a prosthetic. It was far from perfect, and there was lots of room for improvement. But with the resources and the shit they knew? They did a pretty alright job. 

 

That didn’t ease the anxiety he felt when she first started to go back out on scouting missions. Of course, she would always come back safe and sound, but just for extra measure, he’d write her a note. 

 

Winter had been a brutal season for everyone. Ruby had come down with a shocking fever and some were starting to develop coughs of their own. Louis was one of them. 

 

He knew that Clem and Aj had volunteered to go on a supply run, and as much as he protested, they didn’t have much of an option. So instead, he stayed up and wrote her a letter.

 

Only this time it wasn’t just a simple letter. She had to know that he loved her, and that she better come back alive. He had sighed it and crawled into his covers, the sweet embrace of sleep taking over him. 

 

The sound of the iron gates scraping opening startled him awake. Light bled into his room and immediately he felt his heart jump into his throat. 

 

_ He had slept in and missed her. By a long shot. _

 

Muffled voices came from outside and what he could only make out to be screaming? Or was it crying? His head was so fucking  _ muffled _ . He crawled out from the covers and threw on his coat, disregarding anything else.

 

He wished he hadn’t stepped outside. 

 

There stood a shaken Aj, tear stains marking his small checks and already drying blood soaking in the material of his clothes. And in his hands? Was Clem’s hat. 

 

His world slowed down completely. He could only focus on the hat. 

 

“Louis..” Violet mumbled, reaching out to grab him. 

 

Everything looked so blurry and overwhelming and he couldn’t stop looking at that damn fucking hat. 

 

He had gone over this scenario multiple times in his head. Played out every worse case scenario that could happen to her. He had been through this shit way to many times before. 

 

_ It wasn’t supposed to happen to her.  _

 

He felt a small weight tug on hips and finally he broke his gaze away from the hat and onto a glassy eyed Aj who looked like he had just lost his entire world. 

 

Maybe he had. 

 

-

 

Grief was a strange concept to him. They had built her grave, said their final goodbyes. Aj found comfort with the rest of them, and even though the small boy was very much still hurting, he was also showing signs of healing.

 

_ So why didn’t he feel like he was healing?  _

 

Guilt would often eat away at him, when he was alone. He had never been one to believe in superstitions and it was completely  _ stupid  _ of him to even consider it being the reason she got bit. But he couldn't help but feel like if he hadn’t slept in that morning, if he had given her that fucking letter, she’d still be here. 

 

He hated nights like those. 

 

The nightmares returned and so did the nightly visits to the piano room. Only this time instead of playing the instrument, he sat there on the dusty piano bench and cried until he no longer could. 

 

Until the exhaustion from crying would eventually take over his body. 

 

Aj would sometimes come into the room too, long after he broke down. They would just sit there, just like Clem and him had done months ago, and they would play nonsense. Melodies that felt half hearted, keys and notes that didn’t merge well together. All of It helped, for a little bit at least. 

 

Aj was slowly beginning to smile again, even if it was for half a second. Half a second was better than nothing.

 

He hoped, in time, he’d be able to smile for that half of a second too. 

 

-

Louis had never been much of a writer. 

If he needed or had to, he would. But he never really had the desire to keep a journal like Aasim, or draw his thoughts down just like Tenn used to. 

 

Then  _ she  _ happened and everything felt like it was going to be okay for once in this God forsaken nightmare but just like anything else, nothing good ever lasts forever and now she was gone six feet under and he couldn’t deal with it. 

 

_ It wasn’t supposed to happen to her. _

 

He pulled out the blank piece of parchment, careful not knock over the candle as he set it down on the desk. After all, last thing everyone needed was  _ another  _ fire.

 

_ Not Clem. _

 

His wasn’t much of a writer but he needed to do this- for his own sake. He was remaining strong for everyone around him, but mainly putting on a brave face for Aj. The little shit was in their care now after all. 

 

So he sat down and wrote until he physically couldn’t anymore. Until the tears that threatened to fall blinded him. 

 

_ “Darling, _

_ I know you would want us to continue on, even though you are no longer here. That’s the funny thing about all of this don’t you think? We’ve all grown up surrounded by death and yet it never really gets any easier does it? I think… I think my mind is still in some stage of denial.  _ _   
_ _ It’s been months and I still half expect to see you standing there, laughing or talking with someone when I enter a new room. Or to find you teaching Aj about something positive about this shithole of a world.  _

 

_ You’d be so proud of the little man he’s becoming Clem. I know we all are.  _

 

_ The piano has started to go out of tune again- I blame the weather. I would tune it but..truth be told part of me doesn't want to, as silly as that sounds.  _

_ How did it get to this point Clem? You got us back home, you came back home. You gave us. Gave me-” _

 

Droplets fell onto the paper and when the few tears fell, he couldn’t stop the rest from falling. Everything that had been eating away at him for months on end was slowly beginning to dissipate away. 

 

He couldn’t continue the letter. He didn’t even bother to read over it. Instead, he folded it up in a crane shape, just like all the others and placed it on his bookshelf. 

 

For the first time in months, he was starting to  _ feel _ again. There was no guarantee he was going to start feeling better soon, but he was healing. Slowly. 

 

No amount of words on paper would ever be enough to describe all he felt about her and about her life. And even though she was gone, he could still feel her presence in the little things. Like the sun shining through the window, or when a patch of wildflowers completely bloomed in the spring. That was how he- no  _ everyone _ was going to remember her. 

 

And for as long as he was on this earth, he was going to fight like hell to survive, just like she had done. 

 

He wasn’t going to let her down. 


End file.
